Who makes th' Almighty his retreat,
Shall rest beneath His shady Wings,
Free from th' oppression of the great,
The rage of war, or wrath of kings.
Free from the cunning fowler's train,
The tainted air's infectious breath;
His truth in perils shall sustain,
And shield thee from the stroke of death.
No terrors shall thy sleeps affright,
Nor deadly flying arrows slay,
Nor pestilence devour by night,
Or slaughter massacre by day.
A thousand and ten thousand shall
Sink on thy right hand and thy left;
Yet thou secure shalt see their fall,
By vengeance of their lives bereft.
Since God thou hast thy refuge made,
And dost to Him thy vows direct,
No evil shall thy strength invade,
Nor wasting plagues thy roof infect.
Thee shall His angels safely guide,
Upheld by winged legions,
Lest thou at any time should'st slide,
And dash thy foot against the stones.
Thou on the basilisk shalt tread,
The mountain lion boldly meet,
And trample on the dragon's head,
The leopard prostrate at thy feet.
Since he hath fix'd his love on Me,
Saith God, and walked in My ways,
I will his soul from danger free.
And from the reach of envy raise.
To him I his desires will give,
From danger guard, in honour place;
He long, long happily shall live,
And flourish in My saving grace.